


Dreams of the Past

by dictatoroffandoms



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24668740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dictatoroffandoms/pseuds/dictatoroffandoms
Summary: the was a prompt fill from who knows how long ago that I never postedLavellan starts to have dreams about someone from their past with the Clan.





	Dreams of the Past

There’s fire everywhere, she knows it came from her, but she can’t stop it. It burns bright, blinding her. She can only feel the heat and hear the screams. Oh the screams, calling out in pain, cursing her for her folly, crying for the lost. And it’s all her fault. She knew she shouldn’t have attempted that spell, she was still learning, and now they all suffered for it. One voice in particular rang out, and it hurt to her core. 

“I thought I taught you better,” it was her keeper. She knew she had let her down, and the shame was going to eat her alive. The fire that came from her hands was hurting those she had vowed to protect and to eventually lead. The tears running down her cheeks could offer no apology strong enough to save the ones she had hurt.

There was another voice calling out to her, one that didn’t belong. She strained to hear it over the cries of pain, but it was too distant, almost as if it were worlds away. It mattered not, as suddenly the world around her shook. The shakes crumbled the burning camp around her and brought her back to the real world. 

They were camped in Crestwood, closing fade rifts. She was a part of the Inquisition now, the Inquisitor, no longer the first of clan Lavellan. She was older now, and she hadn’t hurt anyone. Her eyes drifted open, the residue making it more trying than it should be. Glancing around, her eyes settled on Blackwall. It was still before light, so he must be asking for relief from his shift. 

As she sat up and moved to stand he held up his hand for her to stop. She cocked her head at him, giving him the go ahead to explain, rubbing her eyes and face to be rid of the tears that stained the area. He hesitated a moment, afraid he might be overstepping boundaries, but decided to press on, as the Inquisitor often let others confide in her; this was his chance to return the favor, at least, if she wanted to.

“I was headed back to my tent, when I heard you in distress, my lady. I wanted to check in on you, I hope that I did not offend.” The statement takes courage for him to get out, but he says it with a confidence he most definitely does not feel. His eyes are sincere, and he silently hopes she will take advantage of his kindness. 

She considered it for a moment. The nightmare had really shaken her, and it would be nice to talk about it with someone. Blackwall was a good man, she knew that. He was hiding something about his past, but so was she. This could strengthen their bond, and their trust. Lavellan took a breath and gave Blackwall the best smile she could muster. It was weak. He gave a polite smile back, and sat fully.

“I was having a nightmare,” she puts the simplest fact out first. He nods his understanding, but contributes nothing. 

“It was about my clan.” Another simple fact, but this one provided some insight. “I know the dream isn’t real, but it’s one that has been haunting me for as long as I can remember.” This was deeper, and Blackwall barely breathed for fear of making the situation worse. 

“I was an eager student when it came to magic,” her voice wavered, “and I was ambitious. My keeper warned me not to try advanced spells, but I was young and didn’t always listen.” She has to pause, now that she had given all the context she could, it was time to get to the point.

“I was showing off to some of the hunters in training near the edge of camp. A fire glyph that would explode when something touched it.” She chewed her lip before continuing, “I cast a small one, and one of the others threw a stone into it. We weren’t far enough from camp, and the sparks caught a tent on fire. If Keeper Istimaethoriel hadn’t been nearby and able to put out the fire, it would have torched the entire camp while everyone else slept.”

“The hunters swore to me they would never speak of that incident again, but Keeper Istimaethoriel would use it to reel me in for years after. I could have killed my entire clan by just showing off to the other children. The what-if the keeper wasn’t there situation is what haunts me. Watching my life burn down around me, knowing I caused it, and can do nothing to stop it.” 

Blackwall was stunned. He would have never known that something like that was plaguing the Inquisitor. He is reminded of his own past, and the blood that is on his hands.


End file.
